


Endlessly

by reassembleme



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reassembleme/pseuds/reassembleme
Summary: Fenris and Hawke savor a moment to themselves.





	Endlessly

What a thrill it is to be seduced, to be wanted and loved by someone, to be given the choice to say, “No.” What a greater thrill to breathlessly, wholeheartedly say, “ _Yes_.” Her large chambers feel so small in this moment, only the sounds of their labored breathing and the gentle crackling of the dying fire filling the space between them.

 

Hawke, strong, compassionate, silly Hawke, gazes at him with those clear, grey eyes. His skin tingles under the intensity of her stare, a softness reserved solely for him. He's left bare in a way that far surpasses his nudity. Her hair, so fair it nearly matches his, shimmers in the sweeping shadows cast by the dull burn of her fireplace. She moves toward him languidly across the bed, greedily making use of this rare luxury they have; there is no room for leisure for the Champion of Kirkwall.

 

Tonight, though, she doesn't have to be the Champion. No burning cities, no nosy nobles, no looming Qunari – just him and his Hawke.  _His Hawke_ , he smiles, reaching out for her and pulling her on top of him. She lands on his bare chest with a soft thud and whooshing of air, the shoulder of her robe falling loose. Their eyes meet and they laugh. He swallows it with a kiss, lips moving without hurry against hers. She smells of her bath oils, lavender and  _Hawke_ filling his senses. He revels in this, in the easy way she  _gives_ to him. It was difficult, at first, learning how to take. How much, how little, how slow, if he was even allowed to. But Hawke was there, always there, patient and kind as ever. Even in those lost years, Hawke was there.

 

Fenris gasps as Hawke paves a hot trail down his jaw, making her way down his chest, past his navel, until her heat has him clutching at her sheets. Every time feels like the first time with Hawke. Fenris is sure he'll never get tired of this feeling, sure he'll never want to, especially not when Hawke’s eyes land on his. He shivers at the unwavering want that he finds there, at the insistent pressure of staff-calloused hands on his hips.

 

Before long, she's shifting. Pale legs, long and full, trap his against the bed. She teases, rubbing her entrance against his length. The smirk playing at her lips falters when he thrusts up against her, and she relents. Slowly, leaving them both short of breath, she sinks down. Fenris idly thinks that he could drown in this moment. He splays his hands out on the wide expanse of her thighs, watching as she sets the pace. Fenris’ hips snap up to meet hers, losing himself to the rhythm of their bodies. Her robe hangs off both shoulders now, the tie straining to keep closed, exposing more of her with each movement. He groans, fighting to keep his eyes open, to watch the way she lifts and falls above him.  _Maker, I love this woman._

 

He surges forward, sloppily slotting his lips against hers. He slides his arms around her torso, crushing her body against his, taking control of the rhythm. The only words on his lips are her name. He's dizzy, lost to the noises that escape her.

 

“Fenris – I'm close.”

 

“Me too,” he says, mouthing at the bend sat between the junction of her neck and freckled shoulder. Suddenly, he bites, and he grins as she shudders and sighs above him, scratching at his back to gain traction. The sting does nothing but urge him on, and he's quick to follow. He holds her tighter still as he spills inside her.

 

They take a moment to gather themselves, smiling softly at each other in the glow of the fire’s dying embers. She brushes hair from his forehead as she lavishes his face in feather light kisses. Shaking his head, he pulls her down onto the bed with him. She lays her arms across his chest, mostly on top of him, resting her chin on her hands. He stares, fondness building in his chest.

 

“What are thinking about so intensely, Fenris?” She says. She laughs as she does, eyes crinkling at the edges. Fenris can’t help but smile as well, indulging in the warmth she offers.

 

“Just you, Hawke. Always you. I am yours.”


End file.
